The Darkest Light
by mirmur
Summary: Hermione, even at the age of 11, is a person of logic. She has embraced the oddities that occur around her, she loves the quiet of the forest, and her favorite subject is botany. What happens when she ends up taking a decidedly different path than was originally intended? With her memory altered and and her first year at Hogwarts fast approaching, will darkness prevail? Fleurmione


Hi all, this is my first attempt at a full fledged fanfiction that I will be posting here. The idea is a Hermione/Fleur endgame so if you're not a fan then this might not be for you. This will be a dark Hermione story to an extent as well so the rating will reflect that.

As a disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter, those rights belong solely to J. K. Rowling.

Without further ado, enjoy!

 **Chapter 1: A Change of Plans**

 _I kneel on the forest floor, gently touching the amanita rubescens, more commonly called a blusher mushroom, a commonly edible mushroom found in England… Or is it a amanita pantherina, a panther cap mushroom? They look so similar… I make a mental note to study the difference between the two before I get up to continue walking through the darkening forest, my stomach growling lightly. It feels like I have been walking for hours, my sense of time getting skewed from being under the cover of the towering trees._

 _I try to remember why I had ventured into this forest in the first place_ ; th _ere has to be a reason for me to be here. The yew trees surrounding me twist and turn at awkward angles, making my breathing quicken slightly as the shadows elongate with the coming night. I glance around at my surroundings and begin to panic when all I see are the eerie skeletal shapes created by the trees. I start to walk faster as I hear a twig snap, the stick in my hand pointing in random directions like a sword._

' _Why am I holding a stick? This isn't going to do a bloody thing!' I think, panicking further. I hear another twig snap, closer now, and yelp trying to hide in the twisting shadows of the trees. I push myself further and further into one of the large winding trees, pressing myself into one of the deep crevices. If it were daytime I would marvel at the beauty surrounding me but all I can think of now is the light footsteps I hear getting closer. Closer._

 _A gutteral, almost animal-like laugh sounds from my right hand side and before I can move I feel breath hitting my ear._

" _Got you." I hear the same deep voice say as I am yanked forward by the arm by what feels like claws. I hear one last disturbing cackle before I am pulled into my attacker and feel a sudden sharp pain in the back of my neck._

I scream, springing up in bed, frantically feeling the back of my head and neck for the injury that I am sure must there. My throbbing head and aching arm only adds to my hysteria as I start sobbing. My bedroom quickly becomes blurry and dark despite the sun beginning to stream through my window.

"Hermione? What's wrong sweetie?" my mother comes rushing into my room, quickly gathering me into her arms and letting me cry into her shoulder as I try to sort through my thoughts.

This is the third time this week I have had the same nightmare and every time it is just as terrifying as the last. I have never had an easy time remembering my dreams but for some reason these ones stay with me for days, haunting me.

I shake my head against my mother's shoulder and mentally pull myself together, willing my breathing to go back to some semblance of normal.

As I slowly get my tears under control I pull back from my mother, smiling weakly at her. "Sorry mum, just a bad dream. I'm just going to get a cup of water and I will be right as rain." I say, extracting myself from her and getting up to go to the bathroom, grabbing the empty glass on my bedside table. I quickly refill my glass and take a few gulps, relishing in the satisfying feeling of the cool liquid sliding down my throat.

I pad back into my bedroom and look to my bed where my mother is still sitting, looking at me with concern. "Alright I'm making the decision for you, you're coming to France with us this year. You can still see your friends for the second half of camp. These nightmares are getting out of control and I want you close."

I start to internally panic and a neutral mask slides over my face as I try to think of a way out of going to France. I have been able to get out of it since I first started going to camp, my parents realizing that I prefer my friends to croissants and trying to learn a foreign language.. Even if I did pick up on it fairly quickly.

I sigh aloud and let the mask drop, realizing that there is no choice but to go. My mother only gives me the look she is currently sporting when she won't take no for an answer. "Alright mum, I understand…I will write Abigail and tell her to let the others know they will see me in a few weeks." I slowly pad over to my desk and start to pen the letter I just mentioned, planning on dropping it in the mailbox before we leave.

I've never had a good time making friends at school, they all think I am a know-it-all bookworm and tend to stay far away. I spend most of my free time at school with my teachers, using recess to do my homework in the classroom and visiting with my favorite science teacher to tell him about any new plants I've discovered.

It isn't bad, but it is nice having kids my age to talk to when I go to botany camp. I have been going for the last couple years, since I was nine and was able. I really don't want to miss out on seeing my friends; a large part of me is afraid they will forget about me in my absence. But I have no choice and am old enough to know when I am overruled.

I hear my mother sigh and look hopefully at her. "I'm sorry honey, I know you would rather be with your friends. It is only for a couple of weeks though and you will see your friends as soon as we get back to England. Besides, we have made good friends in some of the locals and their daughters have been wanting to meet you. Who knows, maybe you will make friends with them." She looks at me with a soft expression and I nod, giving her a weak smile.

She gets up from my bed and walks toward the door, saying over her shoulder that breakfast will be ready in a few minutes and after we will be leaving to head to the airport. I finish up my short letter and put it in an envelope to mail out before looking over at my overfilled backpack. 'I am going to need more formal outfits if I am to go to France,' I think to myself with another forlorn sigh. The only things I packed for camp are some outdoor clothes and my favorite botany book, Plant: Exploring the Botanical World.

I take one more moment to wallow before nodding determinedly and marching over to my backpack, switching out a couple of trainers for dresses and throwing in some nicer tops. I put in one more botanical book for light reading before struggling to close my groaning backpack. With a wince I take out How The Earth Turned Green by Joseph Armstrong and tuck it under my arm, resolving to carry it and read it on the plane.

I close my backpack with less resistance and sling it over my shoulder, underestimating the weight and immediately falling to the ground with it partially over my shoulder. I wince before slowly getting back to my feet, putting most of my weight forward. As I awkwardly stand I feel my backpack start to slide forward and I immediately snap up straight, not wanting to fall again.

I pick up my book that I dropped when I tried to break my fall and take stock of myself to assess any potential damage. I note that my arm no longer hurts and while I do still feel a dull throb, the worst of my headache is gone as well. The soreness in my backside is slowly fading and I grimace, hoping that is the worst thing to happen today.

Nodding to myself I waddle to my desk to pick up my letter before going the door, turning around to take one last look around my plain looking room, making sure I didn't miss anything.

To my left is a small four drawer mahogany dresser, the top adorned with photographs taken from my previous two years at camp. Next to that is a fairly large bookcase with a step stool next to it, the only thing making it possible for me to reach and use the top shelf. Nestled into the back left corner of the cozy room is my twin sized bed, still messy from this morning. In the back right corner is a small writing desk, pens and paper littering the top.

Looking back over to the left I carefully take my backpack off my shoulders and set it on the floor before going back to my bed to make it look presentable. My parents have always told me that making your bed at the beginning of the day will help you get going in the right direction and, despite the horrific nightmare, I still intend to have the best day I can.

Nodding at the now neatly made bed I turn back around and sling the backpack around my shoulders, managing to keep my balance this time, before walking out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

I shuffle through the house and make a quick stop by the front door to deposit my backpack before heading straight to the kitchen, barely taking in my surroundings in my quest to get to the eggs and bacon I smell cooking at the stove.

"Your plate is already on the table sweetie," mum says as I step through the threshold. The modestly sized kitchen is painted light yellow, contrasting nicely with the white kitchen cabinets. To my right is a small dining table with four chairs pushed neatly into it. I turn and sit at the table, immediately digging in.

Soon my parents sit in front of me and we quietly eat our breakfasts, all lost in our thoughts. I look up at my mother and get an immediate sense of what I will look like when I get older. She has the same curly hair that she usually has pulled back into a loose ponytail with angular features and high cheekbones.

My father is a tall lanky man with a square face and dark neatly trimmed hair, a short beard always covering his face. I can't even remember a time of seeing him without facial hair.

They are both dentists, working an easy Monday through Friday schedule and affording them the luxury of vacationing for a few weeks during the summer every year.

"Your mother told me that you are coming with us to France, Hermione. Are you all packed and ready?" My father asks me, giving me a small smile.

I nod and give a small smile back, accepting that the only thing I can do is make the best of my situation. "Yeah I traded out a couple trainers for dresses and put some nice tops in my bag as well. I should be alright."

After hearing a general murmur of agreement we fall silent again, finishing our breakfast in short order. I stand and take my dishes to the sink and my mother quickly sets to washing them. I hear my father head out of the kitchen and follow him out with my book and letter, deciding to get the letter in the mailbox before out carrier gets here.

"I'm packing up the car now, is this all you have?" My father asks me, swinging my backpack over his shoulder with little effort and I scowl, remembering my struggle from earlier.

"Yeah dad, that's everything." I mumble as I head out the door and down the clean blacktop driveway, putting Abigail's letter into the plain black mailbox. Camp doesn't start for a couple days so it should get to her with plenty of time.

"Dad, did you call grandmum and let her know that I am going with you to France?" I don't want her worrying when I don't show up, since she still thinks I'm going to stay with her until camp begins. She is the one that got me into botany and I was looking forward to seeing her and learning how to make the salve for burns she always has on hand.

"Ah yes dear, I called her as soon as your mother told me of the change. She said she will miss you but will send you a letter with the ingredients for that salve." He told me with a twinkle in his eye, knowing it would cheer me up.

"Brilliant!" I exclaim, doing a fist pump before running back inside to grab my moleskin with all of my notes and ingredient lists I have collected over the past couple years. The moleskin was a gift from my grandma for my birthday after I started showing an interest in her passion. It is never far away from my person.

I rush back outside with both books in my arms and my dad chuckles as he sees me. "Honey, why don't you grab your satchel to put those in. It will make getting through customs easier."

Nodding I set the books on the back seat of the car before hurrying back inside to do just that as my mom heads toward the front door. "Hurry along sweetie, we are leaving in a couple minutes!" she calls back to me as I race up the stairs.

I quickly grab my satchel and throw a couple pens in there, hearing a clink as they hit the small jars of salve I have in there before running back downstairs and out the door, closing it behind me.

I climb into the back seat and put on my seatbelt. Immediately upon getting situated I open my satchel so that I can put How The Earth Turned Green and my notebook into it before closing it up securely. I hear my parents chuckle before we back out of the driveway and make the short trek to the airport.

"Oh here is your airplane ticket honey, please don't lose it," my mother says kindly as she hands me a ticket with my name on it. I squint suspiciously as I take the ticket, the question on the tip of my tongue.

"We were hoping you would decide to come with us this year." dad answers for me as we pull into the airport parking lot. It is about eleven in the morning so the parking lot is moderately full.

I put the ticket into my satchel and sling it over my body before hopping out of the car, going to the back to grab my bookbag.

We quietly walk into the airport and within thirty minutes are through customs and on our way to the waiting area our plane will take off from.

"That was surprisingly quick." I said to my parents two nod and settle in with a book of their own, waiting the hour it will take for the plane to board.

I take out my journal and begin flipping through the pages, noting the healing salves for cuts and headaches as well as notes on edible and poisonous mushrooms. There are a few scribbles along the margins from my grandmother, noting different uses the mushrooms can have and effective methods when creating my salves.

I smile as I read through the notes for the hour long wait and resolve to add to them on the airplane as it is announced that it is time for us to board.

The four hour flight from London to Paris feels like a long one and I yawn as we finally step off of the plane, our carry on bags slung over our shoulders. We look around the large bustling airport and locate the luggage corral, walking over to wait for our bags to come around the conveyer belt.

After a ten minute wait we are off to the shuttle where we are going to drop off our things at the Les Jardins d'Eiffel before walking to the Bistro Chez France for dinner, giving our tired legs a change to stretch.

I look around at the buildings and surrounding shops nearby, familiarizing myself again to the scenery. It is around 6:30 at this point and the foot traffic is dying down as we make it to the bistro, quickly getting seated and ordering our meals.

My parents start a quiet conversation with each other and I sit looking at the menu for a few moments longer, trying to determine a good dessert to follow my roasted salmon.

Giving up I close my menu and look around the small bistro, deciding to people watch. As I look from table to table I begin to feel eyes on me. I try to casually glance around, trying to determine the location of the person.

My skin heats up and I feel a blush cover my cheeks as I discover the deep blue eyes of a pretty blond girl looking at me from a few tables away. Her hair is down, cascading down her back and I see her angular cheeks lift up in a small smile as she continues to look into me.

I feel transfixed, unable to tear my eyes away as she holds me in her intense gaze. After a few moments she turns away, breaking me from my trance. I shake my head, clearing the fog that had settled over my thoughts as my blush subsides. She taps on presumably her mother's shoulder, and upon gaining her attention whispers something to her.

Her mother then looks in the direction she indicates and I see her eyes light up in recognition as she looks toward our table. I feel confusion prevail as my main emotion as the beauty and her mother stand and walk toward our table.

As they walk toward us it feels as if everything is happening in slow motion. The unknown girl is looking at me with a wider smile now and my immediate reaction is to stand as she stops in front of me. I hear her mother clear her throat and my eyes break from the girl to look at her. She smiles gently at me before looking to my parents.

"Mademoiselle and Monsieur Granger, it is so nice seeing you again." The heavily accented woman speaks to my parents and my eyebrows lift in understanding. These must be the people my mum mentioned earlier.

"Ah Apolline, the pleasure is ours! We were hoping to run into you." My mother speaks up, standing with my father and going to embrace Apoline, giving her a kiss on both cheeks.

"Where are our manners? Apolline, Fleur, this is our daughter Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Apolline and Fleur Delacour." My father says as the three of them sit down and begin talking excitedly in french.

Let me know what you think!


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